


Distractions

by waffles0up



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Human Names Used, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vodka, was supposed to be a james bond au but that kind of became a secondary element
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffles0up/pseuds/waffles0up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nyo!Belarus/Romania PWP written as part of a psuedo-art trade. Mihai attempts to buy Nikolai dinner. Things go downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> First PWP I've actually ever gotten around to writing. I'm not overly familiar with writing Romania or Nyo!Belarus's characters, so forgive me if they are OOC. I tried my best.  
> Mihai - Romania  
> Nikolai - Nyo!Belarus

Maybe he feels it's out of decency; maybe it's something more, but Mihai likes to think it's the least he can do to offer the guy dinner. It's one less thing for him to worry about, after all, right?

Nikolai stands in his doorway, slightly dishevelled, hair more out of place than usual. He's frowning, and asking Mihai what the hell he wants (implying that he shouldn't be calling on him at this time, and that he should know there's only a few hours left before he has to leave).

Mihai is honest with him, he just comes out and says it, “If you haven't already eaten, let me buy you dinner. Call it a goodbye present, if you will.”

It's not 'goodbye', per se. At least, he hopes it isn't... If everything goes well, it won't be. If Nikolai fucks up on this mission, one of the riskiest Mihai thinks has ever been given to a single agent, then yes – it probably is goodbye.

Crinkling his nose, Nikolai says nothing. He looks as if he's going to slam the door in Mihai's face at any second.

“I understand you've probably got a lot on your mind...” The Romanian lifts his hand cautiously, as if to block the door were it to be abruptly shut. He shifts a little under Nikolai's piercing glower, and racks his brain for something else to say. “I'll order take-out, if that's any better--”

“Did Arthur send you?” Nikolai asks, in a mutter. What he's really asking is 'did the boss send you to make sure I'd eaten?; the thought never occurred to Mihai, but now he thinks about it, he's surprised Arthur didn't mention anything of the sort.

“Ah... No.” Mihai slips his hands down into his coat pockets. “No, I'm really only here on my own accord.”

“I'm not hungry.” This time, Nikolai goes to shut the door.

“Nikolai, please--” He doesn't want to have to beg him, but at the same time, he feels – for some reason – obliged to insist. Mihai has taken a liking to the Belarusian, an agent a few years younger than himself, but surprisingly far more skilled, particularly in stealth. Yet as indispensable of a spy he is, he still has yet to mature in many other respects. It's understandable if he doesn't want to eat, due to nerves or whatever other reason, but insisting he does, Mihai thinks, is the right thing to do.

Besides, he now has his foot jammed in the doorway. Nikolai can't shut it fully; the only thing he can do is open it again, and when he does, he doesn't look happy.

“I'm busy, leave me alone.” He hisses.

“Busy doing what? It was my understanding your belongings were sent off this afternoon--”

“It's none of your business.”

“So you're not doing anything, then.”

Nikolai pauses. “Move your damned foot, Mihai.”

“Let me buy you dinner, and I will.” His patience is starting to wear thin. “I'll even just leave you the money! Just--”

“ _No._ ”

“ _Nikolai._ ” He lets out a strained sigh, bringing one hand up to rub at his forehead. “Stop acting so stubborn. Please. You and I are friends, aren't we? Let me help you.”

Silence falls, and Mihai's pretty sure it's because Nikolai is now trying to ignore him in hopes he'll go away. For one, he didn't expect to somehow have managed to have guilt tripped, for lack of a better term, the younger man into thrusting the door open, grabbing Mihai by the collar of his coat and pulling him out of the cold and into his apartment, the door slamming shut again seconds later.

“Just dinner.” Nikolai turns his back to Mihai before he speaks; he heads off towards his couch.

Mihai regains his balance quickly after being tossed inside, lest he stagger over and land on his ass. Straightening his back, he frowns. “Right. Just dinner.”

Nikolai has already thrown himself onto the couch, the springs of which creak beneath him. Most of the furniture in his apartment is old – it's the same case with most of the agents, none of their lodgings are luxury by any means, but Mihai is pretty sure the mission Nikolai's taking up will earn him enough money for a new suite, at least (it might even help him fix the peeling paint or the leaking sink, as well). Heck, if he's lucky, it might even get him a promotion – he might even get a salary big enough from it to get out of that apartment complex. That in mind, Mihai's kind of envious of him.

But envy isn't exactly what Nikolai needs right now, he's sure. After all, not every agent would be willing to spend two months in Germany pursuing a large and notorious crime ring – and even fewer would do it alone. Nikolai's either incredibly brave or incredibly mad. Mihai thinks he might be both.

He finds the phone and orders Chinese, his eyes fixed on the back of the Belarusian's head. Nikolai isn't moving; his body is rigid and tense. The entire apartment is silent, save for when Mihai speaks during the call, and he has to wonder what exactly Nikolai was doing before he turned up at his front door. The TV is off, there's no sign of any books he was reading... All he can assume was that Nikolai was sat in silence, probably lost in his own thoughts. Mihai was sure he'd be doing the same, were he in his shoes.

“Do you want a drink?” Mihai asks him, after hanging up.

Nikolai peers over at him. “I've only vodka.”

Mihai heads to the kitchenette on the opposite side of the room with a shrug. Once he's searched through the cupboards for the (open) bottle of vodka and a glass, he pours the drink and returns to the couch, to set it on the coffee table in front of Nikolai.

Nikolai makes a grunt, which may or may not have been a 'thank you', and downs it in one.

Raising an eyebrow, Mihai mutters matter-of-factly, “You're supposed to sip it, you know.”

The glass clinks back down on the coffee table. “Don't tell me how to drink my fucking vodka.”

“You're stressed.”

“What clued you in?”

There's bitterness in Nikolai's tone. He doesn't want Mihai to be there; he wants to be left alone with his thoughts. The more Mihai thinks about this, the worse he feels about being there – still, it was water under the bridge now. He'd already made the call; he'd stay until the take-out arrived, pay and leave and, well, it was up to Nikolai then whether he ate it or not.

Nikolai sits forward with his head slumped and his back arched, resting his forearms on his legs. Not wanting to continue to just stand there like a spare part, Mihai takes the seat on the couch next to him.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Snorting, Nikolai replies bluntly, “You can bring me the rest of the vodka.”

Mihai cocks an eyebrow. “Anything other than that?”

“No.”

With a light sigh, Mihai pulls himself back out of his seat. “Suit yourself.”

He retrieves the bottle for Nikolai, as requested, but it's empty less than five minutes later, and as much as a hypocrite as he thinks that makes him, Mihai isn't sure that alcohol was the right solution in this case. If anything, it's only served to have sunk Nikolai's eyes – and frown – further. A quarter of a bottle gone, and the take-out hadn't even arrived yet.

By now, Mihai himself has slumped back on the couch. Were he to have leant back any more at this point, he would have been lying on it. He glances up at Nikolai every short while, but still, the Belarusian doesn't shift. It's clear he doesn't want to talk, and Mihai can understand why... At the same time, he finds it frustrating.

_'It's not a question of whether I want to or not',_ he'd overheard Nikolai say to another of their colleagues when asked about his mission. There were many things Mihai thought or felt in regards to what Nikolai was going to have to do – pity and worry, among others. He'd thought buying him dinner might have helped things but... Well, sitting in a rather awkward silence like this with him wasn't helping at all.

It felt like hours had passed before Mihai decided to speak again. In reality, it had probably been only half an hour. “You know... It's alright to be nervous.” He tried to sound nonchalant; given Nikolai's reaction to his request earlier, he was sure that the Belarusian wasn't one to appreciate the concern of others. “It's a dangerous business, what we do.” He peered over at Nikolai. “For what it's worth, I think you're very brave for even considering that mission.”

Nikolai paused, then grumbled out a reply. “I don't want to talk about it.”

Mihai sat upright. “I understand. I was just saying.”

“Then don't.”

He rolled his eyes. “Nice to know my attempts at making you feel better are appreciated.” He really only meant this sarcastically; he hadn't ever expected much appreciation from Nikolai at all.

“Just don't talk about it.” Nikolai's brow furrowed.

The Romanian opens his mouth, almost responding with another 'suit yourself', or something along those lines, but he decides to say nothing at all. Words won't get him anywhere here; Nikolai isn't willing to listen, there's clearly too much on his mind. Mihai slumps a bit, casting his gaze down towards the floor. The take-out will be here soon... And that'll be it; after that, he won't see Nikolai for two months, at least.

He thinks it over – what makes him feel less anxious, before missions or otherwise? His eyes lift up and catch sight of the empty vodka bottle... _Hm_... He looks down again... He's already dismissed that idea, a hangover tomorrow morning is the last thing Nikolai needs.

What he needs, Mihai thinks, is a distraction – something, _anything_ , to take his mind off the mission. He could read, or watch TV, or go for a walk, or...

...Mihai opens his mouth once again to make a suggestion, but then remembers Nikolai didn't want him to talk about anything in relation to tomorrow. He has to think again... If words won't help, the only thing he can do is _act_.

But when he's moved closer to Nikolai, when he's lifted his face up towards his own with his hands until they're mere inches apart, he isn't entirely sure this is the _right_ action to take. Then, Mihai decides that, not exactly being the type to back down, he doesn't care. He kisses Nikolai, gently, but firmly enough to make it linger... If Nikolai will only think of that for the rest of the night, instead of brooding over the mission, then he'll have helped him in some way.

When Mihai draws back, he offers Nikolai a coy smile. The Belarusian looks surprised; his eyes are wide and his lips are parted in a way that makes him look as if he's searching for something to say, but can't find the words.

There's a knock at the door. Mihai pushes forwards out of his seat and digs into his pockets for the cash.

“Goodnight, Nikolai.” He says briefly, before opening the door, and handing the delivery man the cash. He slips past said man, and out into the night, assuming Nikolai would take the food and have done with it.

He can taste vodka on his bottom lip. He doesn't look back.

All Mihai hopes, as he returns to his own apartment, a few floors down from Nikolai's, is that the kiss – as simple and as brief as it was – was distraction enough. He thinks it might have been a little presumptuous, actually, as he hangs his coat up in the doorway... In fact, it might not have worked at all – _in fact_ , it might have just caused an awkwardness between them... He mentally chides himself, and thinks he should have really thought it through a little better.

At least he was able to buy him dinner, after all. He kicks off his shoes, switches the lights on and looks around for the TV remote; by the time he's done all of that, though, a rather loud knock at the door makes him wince.

He answers, and he doesn't think he should be as surprised to see Nikolai stood there, glaring daggers at him, as he is. Before he can even greet him again, the Belarusian's fist connects with his face.

Grabbing at the immediate, glaring pain in his jaw, Mihai yells, staggering backwards. “The hell was that for!?”

“You know damn well what it's for.” Nikolai hisses.

Mihai supposes he does. He winces, as he hears the door slam again. He assumes Nikolai has left again after having punched him, but when he looks up, the Belarusian is still there, standing with his back straight, his eyes piercing. It's a bit intimidating to look at, actually.

“R-Right...” Mihai rubs at his face, leaning against the nearby wall to support himself. Luckily, he doesn't think Nikolai has knocked any teeth out or broken anything else, and he can't taste blood... Still, it hurts like a fucker, that's for sure. As if the hit hadn't been startling enough, he finds himself, mere seconds later, pinned to the wall, Nikolai and his death glare looming over him. Mihai stares back at him, a little unnerved. He half expects him to hit him again, and again – to beat the shit out of him... It was common knowledge that pissing Nikolai off didn't bode well...

But Nikolai does nothing of the sort. Instead, he does something far more surprising – he presses against Mihai, sandwiching him between his body and the wall, and kisses him. It's fervent; Nikolai is pushing his weight against Mihai, and he's even managed to take a hold of both his wrists, pinning them down as well. He can't move – not that he could if he wanted to... Mihai, at least for those few moments, is already frigid with shock.

Too many thoughts are going through his mind... Had Nikolai wanted to kiss him back before? Had he just up and left, and that was why he'd suddenly come around and hit him for it? With that in mind, when Nikolai pulls back, he mutters a brief, “S-Sorry...”

Nikolai only continues to frown. The idea that he's going to hit him again makes it back into Mihai's mind then, but again, all the Belarusian does is lean back in to kiss him once more. This time, he's more tongue and teeth than lips, coaxing Mihai's mouth open, forcing him to return it... And, hell, there's nothing he can do but that... He has him trapped up against that wall, after all, and what's worse, Nikolai now has his knee in between his thighs.

“You're sorry.” The Belarusian says, coolly. He moves down to Mihai's neck, nipping at it with his front teeth.

“Ah... I am!” Mihai gasps, before biting on the inside of his lip. He can feel his face flushing; the tips of his ears burning...

“Then you can accept the consequences of your actions.”

Nikolai moves back, peeling Mihai off the wall with him by the collar of his shirt. Mihai doesn't even fully understand what Nikolai means by that, until he's dragged the Romanian into his bedroom and has thrown him at the foot of the bed.

“Ack...! A-All this, because of one kiss?”

Nikolai doesn't even switch the lights on, or shut the door. Before Mihai knows it, before he can even recuperate, the Belarusian is knelt behind him, once again pinning him down, this time against the edge of the bed.

“You started it.” Comes the growled answer.

Mihai lets out a strained laugh. “I suppose I did...”

Once the initial surprise of it is over, he doesn't object to what Nikolai is doing. Hell, if it takes Nikolai's mind off moping, then really, he's completely achieved what he wanted to do. The Belarusian bites at Mihai's neck, nipping and sucking and causing him to shiver, as his hands move up his shirt, running over his chest. He takes little time in removing the article of clothing, and tossing it to one side.

It's all happening like a blur; it feels like a second ago that Nikolai was kissing him in the doorway still; that he'd only blinked and there they were now, at the foot of the bed, Nikolai now working on unfastening Mihai's pants. He slides them just off his hips and reaches into his underwear, pulling his cock out with a snort.

Mihai twists his fingers in the bedsheets, hissing. “What's that noise for?”

“You're hard already.” Nikolai says, monotonally.

“Tell me something I... Ah--” The Belarusian's thumb is over the head, rubbing at the slit; Mihai shudders. “...Don't know...”

Nikolai slides his fingers up and down the shaft, his breath hot, tickling against Mihai's neck. Shortly after, when Mihai was pretty damned sure he was fully erect and that Nikolai was just teasing him by now, the Belarusian slid away from him, leaving him bent over the mattress.

He hadn't realised how lost his mind had been in the time he was jerking him off; when he manages to snap out of his daze, he watches Nikolai's outline in the darkness of the room, walking around his bed to rummage in his night stand.

It soon occurred to him why. Nikolai returns to Mihai and tugs his underwear further down, exposing his ass. There's a click, indicating that he's opened the packet of lube, and all Mihai can do is rest the uninjured side of his face down on the bedsheets and wait.

Luckily, Nikolai isn't one to take his time – he never has been, he never will be. He wriggles two fingers inside Mihai, and presses his other hand against the top of the Romanian's spine, forcing him to stay bent over. Mihai's blood is pounding in his ears; he bites his lips together, the moment Nikolai brushes over his prostate. His hands wring in the sheets; his body is burning and his cock is aching, but there's nothing he can do about the latter – Nikolai has a good deal of weight pressed against his back and he finds himself unable to move his arms in such a position.

Even when Nikolai takes both of his hands away, Mihai has very little time to recover, because soon after, the Belarusian grabs him by the hips and, slicked up and wrapped in latex, pushes into him. It hurts a little, but Mihai will admit he's done this enough times and that Nikolai's preparation was enough... What hurts more is Nikolai's nails, which are now digging into his hips like thorns.

Nikolai holds him in place like this, and fucks him hard and fast against the foot of the bed. Mihai groans into the sheets, trying to suppress any noise, but it proves difficult, especially as Nikolai reaches forward and squeezes his fingers around his cock again, so tightly that _that's_ almost painful, as well.

Mihai's body jerks and he spills into Nikolai's hand, but it takes longer for Nikolai himself to also shudder, a small grunt escaping his throat. The Belarusian's weight rests forwards on Mihai, trapping him beneath him for a moment, until he pulls out and rolls off. Mihai slides down to the floor on his knees, making a muffled noise upon impact. He winces, and takes another moment to recover. He's not even entirely sure what had just happened – everything had gone by so fast... He calms his erratic breathing and looks around, only to find that Nikolai has walked out of the bedroom.

With a sigh, he pulls himself up, using the bed as support. He fixes his pants and heads back into the main room. By that time, Nikolai is exiting the bathroom, wiping his hand clean with a piece of tissue. He doesn't look Mihai in the eye.

“Consequences, right?” Mihai leans in the bedroom doorway, slightly amused, now that he thinks back on what just happened.

Nikolai tosses the paper in the nearby waste bin and fixes his clothes. He peers over at Mihai, and even though there's a prominent scowl on his face, Mihai's pretty sure there's a faint smile on there, too.

“Goodnight, Mihai.” Nikolai says, heading for the front door.

Mihai nods, the edges of his lips quirking a bit. “Sweet dreams, Nikolai.”

If nothing else, Mihai's pretty sure that his attempt at distraction, somehow, managed to work.


End file.
